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MM Sonic Flower Groove Review
PRIMAL SCREAM
SONIC FLOWER GROOVE
Elevation/WEA
GINGER McGee's Elevation enterprise is not exactly elevating is it?
First, The Weather Prophets turn in a debut LP devoid of the vital sap,
devoid of just about everything actually. Then here come Primal Scream
with this terribly thin entertainment. Quality Control Dept sloping off
early to catch Tony Gubba's "Darts From Redcar"? Something.
Whatever the excuses, "Sonic Flower Groove" is swamped with problems of
its own doing. Primal Sream have never been the most meaty of pop
groups. Previously, only the sucky jangle of "Crystal Crescent" has
mildly suggested some songwriting prowess hiding away in there. These 10
rumbles lack any physicality which is what we would expect. The
shortcomings go beyond this. Bom but not concieved as such, this package
carries no songs, just a dusty pile of dull leftovers. Primal Scream
never rise, they just laze and recline. "Sonic Sister Love", "Silent
Spring" and "Imperial" are the msot glaring offenders, built like
spider's webs and hung like nursery rhymes. Across thse oily attempts of
garageland ethereality, Gilliespie's apologetic vocal lumbers. It is the
most bored, indifferent toil you have heard for years.
Time, it seems, has blundered past Primal Scream. We are not overly
impressed by fourth-rate Byrds impersonations in these brash, untidy
times. Neither are we particularly moved by lyrical infirmities that
make Simon and Garfunkel sound like The Collected Poems Cf William
Blake. No, we are not so easily fooled. When Gillespie attempts the
words, "I Love You," in a song of the same name, you have never heard
those words sound so pitifully dour and disbelieving. Is this how he
says it in real life? God help him then. These are goool words and they
deserve better
"Gentle Tuesday" appears reasonably flushed, an unexpected pant, but
that's about ft. The rest is not pop. It is dandelion fluff. You keep
wond6ring why Gillespie left the Mary Chain to settle for this shell of
a band. It's Sooty Plays The Byrds Songbook with Harry H. Corbett (God
rest his soul) blind drunk on cocleine cough syrup. Elevation my eye!
JONH WILDE
Originally appeared in Melody Maker Oct 3, 1987.
Copyright © Melody Maker.
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